Scumbag Assassin!
by Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena
Summary: Inspired by the "Scumbag Assassin" memes on the Internet, this series of drabbles follows the misadventures of the beloved Assassin Mentor, Ezio Auditore, through the eyes and perspective of the people that he works so hard to liberate from oppression, where they notice strange things about their surroundings... or were they expertly hidden Assassin logistics?
1. Climbs Windows Ladder is 2 feet away

Hello! Arhani here! This is my first Assassin's Creed fanfic, and I do hope you like it! I decided to draw inspiration from all the "Scumbag Assassin" memes from the Internet, regarding the peculiar ways our dearly beloved Assassins operate through the eyes of the citizens they so bravely serve ^.^ Do enjoy!

* * *

Anetta Moretti

Apprentice Baker

Rome, 1500 Anno Domini.

* * *

Anetta was one of the many young women in Rome sent from the countryside to earn money so that her family would not starve. As of yet, she was privileged enough to find a job as a baker's apprentice, and her master, a kindly middle-aged woman who was of the gentry, but refused to remain idle like the rest of her counterparts, was kind enough to give her a generous wage, as well as food and board, so long as she did what she needed and was asked to. Naturally, Anetta would do everything she could to please Madonna Benardi, including sweet-talking the guards that usually came and went with their rounds to buy their wares. Too bad that they were the bakery's only customers, as other people usually could not even afford to feed themselves, with the heavy taxes that the Borgia imposes on the city.

"If only I could think of a way to lower the cost of our breads so that more people could afford them," Madonna Benardi sighed one sleepy afternoon in the height of summer. The first half of the first year of the 16th Century was already gone, and still, the plight of Rome still showed no signs of improvement. In fact, the general populace seemed to be poorer and poorer, with the new laws and taxes, as well was limitations to what the citizens of Rome could or could not do. It was for the "good of Rome, and all man-kind" the heralds shouted from street to street, regarding the new increases in taxes to be paid to the Church, and the number of men fighting underneath the banner of the House of Borgia, to either repay their debts to the city, or out of pure choice due to a steady flow of income in those tough times ever-increased.

"The only way is to use cats for meat-pies," Anetta concluded, dusting off the flour on her hands by patting them onto the sides of her apron. "I'm sure the guards wouldn't notice it, as dull as they are…"

Madonna Benardi allowed herself to chuckle with her apprentice at her comment, but silenced her a few seconds after. Saying things like that could get them killed those days, particularly when their shop was smack in the middle of the city of Rome. "We must be careful, child, now, even the walls grow ever-thin," she warned Anetta, who suddenly seemed to be looking out of the nearby window, staring at something outside. "Are you listening to me, girl?"

Clearly, Anetta was not. However, before Madonna Benardi was able to give the girl a well-deserved cuff on her ear, Anetta pointed towards the window, showing her the strangest sight ever. It was a man, clothed in red and white, ascending the walls of the shops right opposite theirs with little or no effort at all. He climbed from ledge to ledge, be it in the form of window-panes, the gratings of balconies, and perhaps even holes where bricks used to be. It was nothing like they had ever seen before!

"Why, he's like a lizard!" Anetta exclaimed in utter fascination. The man had his hood down, so they could not see his face, but they knew that he would not be a simple man, seeing that he was rather heavily armed with more than just swords. That, and the fact that there were a good ten guards chasing after him. "Look at him go!"

Madonna Benardi could not give a better analogy than Anetta, despite her higher level of education. However, something puzzled her as they watched the strange person climb up to the very tops of the roofs. It did not seem right at all. "There was a ladder two feet away from him, why didn't he use it at all?"


	2. Many Guards Attack One By One

Cesare Borgia

Captain-General of the Papal Armies

Romagna, 1502 Anno Domini.

It was night-time and Cesare Borgia still found no ability to fall asleep. That was why he was still sitting at his desk, reading the reports that came in from Rome itself. Of course, he would be an utter idiot to hope for only good news without him taking charge in the city, but the reports that came in were preposterous to say the least.

"How could a ten-men squad be defeated by only one assailant?" he asked himself. He knew that this would be the handiwork of the Assassin, Ezio Auditore, on his many missions to destroy the good work he was doing towards unifying all of Italy in his name (and using the cover of continuing Templar supremacy in front of his father), but seriously, how did his men fight against such a threat?

Thus, the prodigious Captain-General decided to take matters into his own hands and observe what usually happened when Assassin clashed with the guards of the city.

(Three weeks later)

While Auditore was a master in the art-form of free-running, flitting about the city of Rome like a ghost unseen, Cesare was a son of Rome herself. He knew every single nook and cranny, and every one of her secrets, both the ancient and the modern. That familiarity gave him the ability to move about the city relatively unseen, so long as he did not wear his fine livery that denoted his station, just like Auditore did.

In fact, he was lucky enough to even spot one of the Assassin's apprentices, a boy about 20 or so, eagerly trailing that blasted maestro of his, where they were on a mission to assassinate one of his contacts that was wrecking hell in the central district by rough housing the stall-owners in the market. Needless to say, they attracted a lot of attention by killing the devil in such a public place. There were no fewer than 15 guards on duty around that area, and all of them quickly moved towards the Assassins.

"Come on boys, we can take 'em!" the resident sergeant rallied his men around him. "Let's show them Assassins what we've got!" Ah, such a fine day to watch the possible end of a troublesome enemy. Cesare was practically glowing with pride as he watched the sergeant exchange blows with the Assassin apprentice, who was too inexperienced to hold out on his own for long.

But then, as he watched on, something caught his eye. Sure, both Assassins were locked in combat by then, but what about the rest of the men around them? What were they doing there, moving about, locked in their stances, but nothing else? His men soon started to dance around the Assassins, only starting to attack when they knew that they had a chance to hit the enemy. Those God-damned fools! No wonder his plans were being foiled again and again!

It took him the greatest amount of self-restraint not to curse at them and shout at them to attack the Assassins all together, lest he gave himself away, but still… surely, there could not be any worse fools than that? He was sure that the one to be blamed was the one training them.

Thus, he had to watch slowly, how his men died one by one, and another Borgia tower being burnt down, reducing his family's influence in the city permanently. He would have to question the men he was hiring to train the soldiers, and fast, if he was going to stop his recent failures at all.

Heads _will_ roll when he weeded out the culprit to all this shoddy training, that much, he promised himself.

* * *

Niccolò Machiavelli

Assassin

Borgia-Owned Barracks – Location Classified, Rome - 1502 Anno Domini.

* * *

"So, how is the new training program coming along?" Machiavelli asked the drill-sergeant who was tasked to oversee the training of all new men fighting underneath the banner of the Borgia.

The drill-sergeant bellowed in laughter. "I've trained them to attack one at a time, heh heh, so your end won't be having such a hard time when you see the guards." Of course, he was laughing so heartily, because Machiavelli had just given him a full bag of florins, and a big bag of florins it was! It would be more than enough to make sure that the guards remain as stupid as they were for a good decade.

"Wouldn't Cesare discover your deceit?" Machiavelli probed, knowing that despite his vain ambition, Cesare Borgia was nothing but a fool. He was sure that Cesare would be gathering intelligence on the reasons to the constant failures his followers had garnered him. It was only a matter of time before this tactic of his would be rendered useless.

"Well, you Assassins would just have to kill him before he gets to me, I suppose…"

"Your life is safe with us," Machiavelli reassured him and went on his way after a curt nod towards the drill-sergeant, walking away once he knew that the coast was clear. He hoped that the next drill-sergeant would not be as talkative as this one, or he won't be able to deliver all the money to all the ones he'd been bribing on time.

After all, they, as Assassins, no matter how skilled and able they were, still needed the best precautions. It was an age-old tactic, but it worked, thank God.


	3. See A Bale of Hay Leap of Faith

Alberto Mancini

School-Teacher

Basilica di San Bartolomeo all'Isola (Basilica of Saint Bartholomew on the Island) – Rome, 1501 Anno Domini.

* * *

Messere Mancini was a school-teacher who gave classes in the sole basilica on Isola Tiberina, where the children of the masses could not afford to pay for expensive tutors would join his classes. He taught them to read, write and count, basically, what was needed for to strike a decent living in a city like fair Rome.

That day was a particularly slow day, perhaps, due to the heat of the afternoon sun, and most of his boys were slogging through a particularly difficult problem in arithmetic that even the cleverest boy (and himself) was trying hard to solve. More than half the class had already given up, and resorted to day-dreaming instead.

All of a sudden, little Alfonso, the blacksmith's boy, raised his hand and asked, "Sir, what are the carts of hay around the city for?"

Carts of hay, around the city? In all truth, Mancini did not even think about it at all. But now that Alfonso had mentioned it, yes, the… arrangement of hay-carts and collected leaves were a little strange. In fact, they seemed to be highly random indeed. Wait… wasn't there exactly one such cart right in front of the basilica?

"I know, I know!" Pietro, the green-grocer's youngest, chirped. "It's to stop people from dying if they fall from high places!"

The entire class laughed at Pietro, while Mancini rubbed his temples. He could not blame the boy, for he had quite the imagination. "Would you care to elaborate further, Pietro?" Mancini suggested with a raised eyebrow.

All of sudden, Pietro became extraordinarily quiet, and started to speak in a whisper. "Well, Papa told me that I shouldn't tell this to everyone… but… one night, we saw a man dressed in white and red running on the rooftops and when the guards saw him, he had nowhere to hide, so he jumped into the hay-cart below him! He was lucky to have it there or he'd be dead!"

Mancini's eyes widened. Truly, did children only know how to spout wonders from their little mouths when adults least expect them? The child had witnessed the Assassins in action! Of course, such information could not be shared so openly, and he needed the children to keep it discreet, and he knew the best way to do it. Clearing his throat, he said to the boys, "As Pietro's Papa has said, this must remain a secret. There are angels at work here, and if we tell everyone, their holy powers will not be of any use to us anymore…"

"But, sir, why would angels fear the guards?"

"Shhhh, boy, angels work in mysterious ways," Mancini retorted, mentally kicking himself for forgetting about that… minor detail. "Now, let us continue with our work…"

* * *

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Assassin

Somewhere on the rooftops in Rome – 1501 Anno Domini

* * *

Another night of work for Ezio Auditore, another night of silent bloodshed in the ancient (but crumbling) city of Rome… Sighing, he wondered when he would be able to just stop and enjoy the light of the full moon. Tonight was not such a night, after all, that much he was certain of.

"Assassino! Get him!" the guards shouted to each other as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, on the way of returning to the Assassin head-quarters upon Isola Tiberina from yet another mission. Those fools, they could _never_ catch up with him even if they tried. He was in peak physical condition with more than a decade of experience in free-running, and not just _pacing_ the rooftops.

Glancing downwards towards the streets, he recognized the presence of a very, very familiar shadow. Ah, the ever-present bale of hay. Often as a child, he would wonder what those bales of hay were for, and his late father (May the Lord spare his soul), would tell him that it was to make sure that playful angels would not fall to their deaths if they accidentally got out of their clouds. How ironic… that it was actually another ancient Assassin tactic. He really must thank Machiavelli for such flawless logistics.

Thus, when he deemed that the Borgia guards were no longer at his tail, he took a Leap of Faith and landed in the bale of hay, only to hear the excited shouting of a child.

"Papa, Papa, look, it's the angel Messere Mancini told us about!"

Still in the haystack, Ezio tried hard not to react to anything that the child had said. For one, he could not let anyone know that he was there, and secondly, the guards might still be looking for him… Thus, he remained there in the haystack until all he could hear was the silence of the night.

He would have to speak to Messere Mancini, the school-teacher on Isola Tiberina tomorrow morning… without his Assassin robes that was. He was going to make a big donation so that the schoolboys would have more books and a bigger schoolroom.

* * *

HAN: HAH HAH HAH. I didn't imagine this to turn out as... fluffy as it did. I do hope that you liked this though!


	4. Kills People in White Robes No Blood

Laura Ortensi

Assassin Recruit – Veteran

Assassin Brotherhood Headquarters, Isola Tiberina, Rome, 1502 Anno Domini.

* * *

Laundry day.

Laura hated laundry day with a passion. She never liked the chore of washing clothes when she was working as an assistant to her father who was working as a blacksmith in the Campagna district due to the soot and dust around her father's workshop, and now, as an Assassin recruit, she hated the doing the laundry because of the blood.

God be damned, blood did have a habit to get EVERYWHERE, especially where they were most visible on her robes. Seconds later after that thought, she mentally berated herself for it, because she was the one responsible for killing her last victim so messily. Sitting by the river's banks with a washboard in one hand and soap in another, she and several of her companions (Augusta Cellini and Niccolò Machiavelli was with her that day) went through the week's dirty laundry, taking turns with the others because clusters of people washing only white and grey clothes would be a little too conspicuous.

"You know, as a woman, you should have great skill in getting, er, bloodstains out of clothes, so to speak," Machiavelli said to Laura as she was complaining to Augusta about her utter loathing of washing blood off clothes. The girls just balked at him for a few moments, but quickly understood that he did not utter those words in a sexist manner at all, but just as a matter of fact. "I don't understand why you hate doing the laundry as you do."

Of course, Laura could not find a viable way to come up with a logical answer to Machiavelli, who was apparently trying hard to get a wine-stain out of his doublet because one of the younger recruits had played a prank on him, causing him to spill the wine that was supposed to end up in his esophagus, and on his clothes. She knew that it was no use to try anyways, so she did not, but merely sighed.

"Well, I for one prefer doing the laundry to washing up after meals," Augusta chuckled, offering Laura some comfort in that everyone had their own likes and dislikes. "What would it be for yours, Machiavelli?"

Sighing, Machiavelli decided to humor the recruits. As a youth, he did not need to do any of such chores, pursuing in more… educational matters, but now, as a part of a working engine that was the Assassin Brotherhood, he found himself needing to do many of the tasks he had the luxury of escaping in his boyhood. However, there was one thing that he hated more than doing physical chores, which needed little use of his brain's limited (in his opinion) functions, and that was balancing accounts. Thankfully, he had Ezio to do that for him (when he was not running around in Rome on his various missions to save the city), because _Il Mentore_ was, of course, the son of a banker. Things like that came naturally to him. "Accounts," he told the girls simply. "I find them too tedious. I have God to thank for because balancing accounts seems to be Ezio's second nature." It was not that he did not have a good head for numbers, it was the fact that he just… despised it, much like how Laura despised washing clothes.

At the very mention of the Mentor's name, yet another thought slipped into Laura's mind. "What a minute… how does our dear Mentor manage to keep _his_ robes so pristine?" she asked Machiavelli, so sure that he had the answer to that riddle. In fact, it had been going along the circles of the recruits for many a time now. How _did_ the great Ezio Auditore ensure that no stray stain would defile his white Assassin's robes for the many years he had been active?

"For one, Amelia does the washing for him," Machiavelli explained, getting up to work the kink that had formed in his waist due to prolonged crouching. "Secondly, he wields two Hidden Blades, so killing his targets is more efficient for obvious reasons, and lastly…" He stopped talking for that one second, and the girls' eyes widened. Damn it, it was a secret that he was supposed to keep because they ran a tight budget! "You'll find out soon enough…"

"What is it?" Augusta pressed on. "Come on, Machiavelli, certainly something as trivial as this is not clearance-only?"

Laura, however, managed to guess where Machiavelli was coming from. "What Machiavelli meant to say, I think, was that Mentore Auditore has several back-up robes, no?"

Machiavelli nodded. The recruits only had two, while Ezio, he had at least six, but that was because their cleaning-lady, Amelia, did not always have time to do the laundry for Ezio. It was actually a little anti-climactic in a way. But still, it did shed light on a great mystery that was raised from within the Brotherhood itself. "I hope that the two of you will keep this an utter secret," he told both Laura and Augusta. "Our funds run a little short as we speak, well, for now, that is."

Laura and Augusta both vowed their silence, and Machiavelli could only pray that they did as they promised.

* * *

Three Weeks Later

* * *

Niccolò Machiavelli

Assassin

Assassin Brotherhood Headquarters, Isola Tiberina, Rome, 1502 Anno Domini.

* * *

"I bring you good news, Niccolò," Ezio said to Machiavelli in his study after returning from his rounds around the city. There in the surrounding parts of Isola Tiberina, Ezio Auditore and his Assassin Brotherhood were the saviors of Rome (and perhaps Italy), and not Cesare Borgia, and with the growth in the Assassin's influence and power, many craftsman guilds started to shower favor upon them. "The Tailor's Guild granted us a thirty per cent discount for any purchases that we would make henceforth."

Machiavelli heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, we can make more sets of robes for our apprentices then. I have been hearing some of them complaining about the frequency of laundry day…"

It was at that moment when several voices could be heard from Ezio's own bedroom, voices, that clearly belonged to that of the recruits.

"Mio dio! They're all the same!"

"How does one come by such a great amount of robes?"

"They're all WHITE!"

Ezio said nothing at all, apparently already numbed by the crazy and wacky things that his apprentices would sometimes do. However, this time, he had a feeling that it had something to do with the younger man standing before him. "Niccolò, you were saying?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Oh, he was not angry at all, Machiavelli him long enough to know that, but what did he did know that his retribution would come swiftly.

"Oh, that would be telling, Ezio," Machiavelli replied. The Assassin Mentor was just as mischievous as his apprentices if he felt like it, and with enough reason, his actions would of course, outclass that of the younger ones. He was the Mentore, after all.

"I have some spare time today," Ezio replied. "Please, go on. Explain to me why Laura, Augusta and Lorenzo were snooping around in my closet."

Machiavelli gulped. "Well, it's like this…"


	5. Musician Sees Assassin Follows Him

Ezio Auditore Da Firenze

Assassin

Centro District, Rome, 1501 Anno Domini.

* * *

Bards… Minstrels… Lute-players they were one and the same.

They were nuisances, and for some reason, they were particularly active whenever he was on a mission. There was never, ever, a time when he was bothered by those pesky musicians when he was at his leisure. They seemed to have a hidden sense of things, knowing exactly when he was on the prowl. They would come appear at every corner, singing (oft-times, off-pitch and as loud as possible) and barring his way for no apparent reason. He had wanted to kill them all for the longest time ever…

Wait… now that he had thought about it, they have been annoying him since he had started is days as an Assassin! That can't be right… How did they even know?

Taking a deep breath, Ezio calmed himself down. He knew that he should not jump to any conclusions so easily and so hastily, but he knew that something was definitely amiss. All he could do now was to go on with his current mission and take the thought up to Machiavelli. He would know what to do.

* * *

"Ah, Ezio, your mission proved fruitful?" Machiavelli greeted him once he returned to the Assassin Brotherhood's hideout on Isola Tiberina. Ezio merely nodded and grunted, starting to pace his friend's office. It was a sign that he was deep in thought, perhaps nursing a new idea. As always, Machiavelli went through his papers while keeping a close eye on Ezio, waiting with bated breath as he tried to guess what plagued the mind of his older brother-in-arms.

"Do you know the allegiances of the musicians?" Ezio suddenly quipped, snapping his fingers as he turned towards Machiavelli so fast that one would think that his head would turn backwards fully.

Machiavelli raised an eyebrow. Yes, there were many… peculiar forms of Assassin logistics (bales of hay all over Assassin-controlled cities, paying enemy guards to attack one by one, etc.), and they were not all revealed to Ezio because he was only formally inducted into the Brotherhood fifteen years ago, and just recently assumed de-facto command of the Brotherhood after his uncle, Mario died, alongside Machiavelli himself. He seemed to be fascinated by them, and there were times when Machiavelli indulged him. But those days had been far behind them, so he did not understand why Ezio had come up with that question at all.

"Ezio… what is on your mind?" Machiavelli sighed. He knew that he should not have taxed Ezio so. The man was clearly in need of respite.

"Just answer me, Niccolò," Ezio growled slightly before regaining his composure once he remembered that Machiavelli had done nothing to aggravate him. "Our network doesn't only reach until the Thieves, Mercenaries and a Courtesans, no? It extends further, perhaps even behind enemy lines. I want to know where the musicians fit into this."

The musicians? Why they were plaguing Ezio's mind, Machiavelli wondered, and he sighed at the end. He gave up. "Ezio, musicians are as they are, brother, they play music for coin. That is all."

While Ezio was not unhappy about such a simple explanation, he still expressed some doubts about it. "It can't be as simple as that, Niccolò. I have already spoken to our recruits, they _know_ when we are making a move… there must be something more, and I'm going to find out."

"Perhaps you should ask Volpe," Machiavelli suddenly said as Ezio went out the door of Machiavelli's office. "His eyes and ears have ranges greater than mine."

* * *

La Volpe

Thief – Head of the Roman and Florentine Thieves' Guild/Assassin

La Volpe Addormentata, Rome, 1501 Anno Domini.

* * *

"You want my men to trail the bards to seek out their allegiances?" Volpe asked Ezio.

"Yes, they have plagued my movements for more than 20 years now, and I wish to see an end to it. Their actions cannot be random. I thought that it was a general annoyance, but lately, I have heard complaints from my apprentices regarding the same issue," Ezio explained. "Volpe, your senses are the most heightened among us, so I trust this job to only you and your Thieves."

Volpe smirked. "I will see it done," he replied. "In fact, the musicians are having a meeting two nights from now in the city near il Vaticano, I shall see what I am able to discover then. Would you come along then?"

Ezio did not even stop to think about Volpe's suggestion. He agreed immediately.

* * *

(Two nights later)

* * *

Rodrigo Borgia

Templar - Grandmaster

The Vatican City, Rome, 1501 Anno Domini.

* * *

"Have you made sure that we were not followed?" Rodrigo asked his son, Cesare, who gave his father a slight nod as an answer. "This is a meeting of high Templar clearance, my son. I am afraid that you cannot come with me with given your rank."

Cesare nodded again. Usually, he would have acted out on such a snub, but Cesare had other goals to plan for and achieve. The unification of the Italian city-states into one Italian nation, of course, was one of them. He would let his father have his fun with the Templars, or, an old men's club as he called it when Rodrigo was not around.

Satisfied with his son's answer, Rodrigo closed the double doors before him and gestured towards his guests who stood up to greet him to skip the formalities. That night, he was meeting with the masters of the various musicians' guilds, and they have been a long-time ally of the Templars because the Assassins saw no reason to even consider buying their loyalty, the proud fools.

"So, my friends, what do you have for me?" Rodrigo asked them, making it very, very evident that he demanded answers, and those answers had to be ones that he liked.

"We have tailed the Assassins, Your Holiness, and we have discovered an influx of new recruits as more Borgia towers fall," said one of the guild-masters. "Men and women rally frantically to their cause."

Rodrigo bit his lip. Increasing Assassin ranks was not at all a good thing for the Templars. But, he would have other ways to counter that, of course. "What else?" he enquired further.

One of them raised his hand as a school-boy would answer his teacher and quipped, "The Assassins have also been less… tolerant of us lately. Usually, they would throw coins at us when we start to sing and bar their way, but recently, they have taken to breaking our instruments and even using smoke-bombs at us."

If Rodrigo was not dealing with the Assassins as an enemy, he would have fell onto the floor, laughing out loud while he rolled around due to the hilarity of the situation, but he was, and thus, he furrowed his brows and pretended to look angry. "Courage is needed to bring a brighter future," he told the guild-masters. "I will ensure that all your broken instruments will be replaced adequately, to ensure your … continued service to the Templar Order…"

"Mio dio, I did not know that the musicians were allied to the Templars at all!" Volpe gasped after he and Ezio removed themselves from the meeting between the musician guilds and Rodrigo Borgia himself. "You do know that there is a possibility that more factions could be under Templar coin…"

By then, Ezio was in the foulest moods possible. He should have killed them all those years ago, instead of allowing them to breed. However, he knew that not all musicians were Templar allies, so he would have to be careful. He needed to notify the entire Brotherhood about this as well.

"Well, now that we have solid proof, there is only one thing to do," Ezio said, his brow still furrowed, and once they had returned to the Assassin headquarters, Ezio quickly issued instructions that were quickly placed at highly visible areas all throughout their hideout, which read:

_From the office of Ezio Auditore and Niccolò Machiavelli: _

_There has been concrete evidence that the musician guilds are under Templar control. Keep an open eye of over-eager, mobile musicians. If they follow you overmuch, do not hesitate to do what you must. Kill them if necessary. _

It was one of the stranger edicts of the Assassin Brotherhood, but it was one that lifted many souls. A few weeks after said instructions were passed, both Ezio and Machiavelli had noticed a lightened air among those of the Brotherhood, while Volpe told them that most of the Templar-affiliated musicians had fled Rome due to the growing violence towards them by Assassin hands.

"Let's just hope Borgia does not buy the new ones out when they come to Roma," Machiavelli sighed, slightly disturbed by the turn of events.

"We could scare out them out of the city if you like," Ezio suggested. Machiavelli shrugged. Now that they have solved a great mystery, it was time to move onto another.

* * *

Oh… how Ezio rued the day when he was forced to disguise as a minstrel himself, years and years later. Perhaps it was God's way of retribution, karma… as those of the Hindu and Buddhist faiths from India had named the philosophy of what went around, came around?

* * *

HAN: I thank Pinefresh76 for the idea. I did not completely follow his prompt, but it does explain why the darned bards keep following Ezio around heh heh heh. ^.^ Would you guys like to see more? Do continue to give more suggestions if you want to!


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